


Lead Me Home

by MissSunFlower94



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Anastasia Fusion, F/M, Pretty much canon compliant, just sans Percy, post-whitestone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-10-25 14:47:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10766433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissSunFlower94/pseuds/MissSunFlower94
Summary: After the liberation of Whitestone from the clutches of the Briarwoods, Cassandra de Rolo enlists Vox Machina's help in potentially locating her long lost brother, Percival, who escaped with her the night that Whitestone was taken.





	1. Prologue - Rumors, Legends, Mysteries

There was a time, not long after the twins had left Syngorn, where their wandering was a great deal more aimless. Where Vax'ildan had been a thief without a guild, where all Vex'ahlia knew and wanted was the peace of the woods, where they traveled with their only destination being _far_. As far away as they could go. 

And thus, there came a night the twins camped in the vast forest north of the Turst Fields, further north than either had ever been. It was freezing cold, with winter beginning to rear its head far earlier in the foothills of the Alabastar Sierras, but chapped and numb as her hands and face were, Vex found the pine and birch forest a pleasant difference to the ancient trees of the Elven City where she had once lived. For his part, Vax was looking forward to traveling further north, to the city of Whitestone - small and isolated but extraordinarily wealthy from the ancient noble family, the de Rolos, who resided there. 

That particular night, Vex had frowned and scratched the ears of her adolescent bear, Trinket. Her brother slept near her, his watch would not begin for several hours. She squinted at the sky, and placed the time to be well before midnight.

She did not like Vax’s thieving, but she knew it was there only means of survival. Vex could hunt for their food and build marginal shelter, but they were scraping by, not living. Vex did not want to spend the rest of her life simply _scraping by_. Besides, she told herself, if one of them was seriously hurt or ill they couldn’t afford a healer. Vax was making sure they survived, and she could not fault him that.

Though her thoughts were going in frustrating circles, Vex'ahlia was forever watchful of the forest around her. Therefor, she was able to catch the sound of movement long before it would reach her. She heard the underbrush rustling just north of where they were camped. It was quiet at first, from a distance, but rapidly growing closer, as whatever it was that moved in the brush came barreling in her and Vax’s direction at a frantic speed.

Immediately she was on her feet, bow in hand, Trinket alert and on guard behind her. There was no time to wake her brother, and hopefully, no need. Senses keen on the approaching sound, Vex drew her bow and waited for the first sign of implicit danger, whatever that might be.

It was certainly not what burst from the woods before her.

The boy was a few years younger than her, likely not even eighteen. His dark hair fallen in his face, eyes wide with nothing short of terror, freezing at the sight of her and her drawn weapon. He was dressed strangely; clothes that should have been fine but were muddied and ripped into near rags.

There was a beat of silence, the forest chill creating a bubble of quiet around them. She could see his breath in the cold air, and the way he panted. Who knew how long he had been running.

They held each other’s eyes for what felt like longer than the millisecond it must have been before a second figure joined him. A younger girl, much younger, with the same dark hair. _Siblings_ , Vex gathered immediately. Their terrified expressions were in that moment identical. Neither had a coat.

Trinket growled, but it was low sound, still awaiting Vex’s order. She gave none. Without looking away from either of them, she lowered her bow.

Neither looked reassured.

Vex opened her mouth - to say what, she didn’t know, and never would as the three of them started to the sound of hounds barking in the distance. The same distance the siblings had come from.

The girl grabbed for her brother’s hand, frantically pulling him along. He hesitated a moment, holding Vex’s gaze with his wide blue eyes, clearly considering saying something.

His sister pulled at his hand again, and he pulled his eyes away. Together, they disappeared. 

Vex'ahlia stared into the forest, almost not seeing it, as her brain tried to process what had just occurred. Her chest felt tight, and she realized she had barely breathed for the duration of the encounter. She inhaled then, as her eyes were drawn to the forest floor.

The strangers’ trail was clear, marked by what looked like large spatters of fresh blood.

The sound of hounds came again, considerably closer.

And she nearly forgot to breathe again.

Vex'ahlia woke her brother frantically, softly telling him that people were coming, that they needed to hide. She pulled him east of their current camp, careful that their own tracks were covered. She _knew_ that she had no time to hide the blood trail, that whoever it was that was hunting those siblings had the perfect tracks to follow right to them, but in the moment survival for her and hers had kicked in, and she had to leave it as it was. 

She did not sleep the remainder of that night.

* * *

The next day, they found the city of Whitestone blocked by guards, claiming the city was under quarantine. That a disease had taken the de Rolo family.

Vex had been suspicious - Vax, too - but neither could say exactly why. Besides she didn’t want to push her luck. She didn’t want to stay in these woods anymore.

They left for the south, and she tried to put the matter behind her. Tried to forget the barking of hunting hounds, and the bloodied tracks, and the boy’s blue, blue eyes.

* * *

And so it happened that, five years later, the adventuring party of Vox Machina - the closest thing to a family the twins now possessed - was contacted by one Seeker Asum Emring in regards to a couple known as Lord and Lady Briarwood coming to the court of Emon. The couple had taken over ruling Whitestone after the reported fall of the de Rolo line… but not all the details lined up.

A feast ended very poorly.

A journey to Whitestone was mounted.

A rebellion was formed.

A cataclysmic danger was uncovered and, for the moment, halted.

A vampire and a necromancer were dispatched of.

A scientist escaped.

And perhaps, _most_ importantly:

A de Rolo was uncovered.

Cassandra de Rolo, to be precise. The youngest of the seven de Rolo children, kept by the Briarwoods as a trophy of sorts. Scarred emotionally and mentally by years in their custody, she may have made the right choices in the end, but she was in no position to take the lead of her newly liberated home. Vex’ahlia did not envy the girl the life ahead of her, but at least she was free to make it for herself at last.

And so it happened that Winter’s Crest rolled around, Vox Machina was celebrated as the saviors of Whitestone, and Cassandra de Rolo drew the party aside.

“I know I told you I was able to escape the night the Briarwoods took the castle,” she told them. They all had, well, _interrogated_ her when they had found her in the castle - with good reason, all things considered - and had gotten the gist of her story from her. Her near escape before being shot down the the Briarwoods and taken in by them.

“I did not leave alone that night. My brother, Percival, was with me. But… unlike me, he was able to _truly_ escape their clutches. I- I don’t know what became of him.

Would you, Vox Machina, be willing to do me this last favor?”


	2. Be Grateful

**Chapter One - Be Grateful**

Percy couldn't remember how long he had been in this prison cell.

This being the most recent in a long, long line of things Percy could not remember.

He was rather tired of the feeling.

He sat, his knees drawn up under his chin, and tried to remember what day he had been pulled from the streets of Emon. He flexed his fingers and they twitched with a small spasm of pain. His burns still hurt from when his invention had misfired, and he knew from having more extensive experience with those kinds of injuries than he would have liked, that that meant it couldn't have been more than a few days since he acquired them.

It couldn't have been more than three days ago? Not more than a week, certainly? 

What did time even mean to a man who had no concept of anything from before five years back?

He didn't know. He just wanted-

Percy sighed, fighting the urge to run his manacled hands over his face and through his hair, even though he knew both were already filthy regardless. That was the crux of his problems, really: What he _wanted_. Percy wasn't entirely sure what that was, and hadn't for quite literally as long as he could remember. There were things he needed, things necessary to living, shelter and food, income to sustain both. He worked, tinkering work wherever he could get it, but he had no idea what he was working towards. He didn't know what he wanted, but he knew it wasn't the life he had.

Then there were times he had... dreams. Ideas. Inspiration for things outside of his - or anyone's - knowledge, things like the invention that currently sat in a prison guard's office. But he knew even less what end those ideas were working towards, what want that was an answer to. 

He wanted to know. Where he was going, what his life was even for, who he had been.

Percy wanted to _know_. 

But as things stood, all those half-formed wants still played second-fiddle to the immediate need: Getting out of this cell.

He sighed again, and then coughed. His throat and vocal chords ached; the former from thirst, the latter just from the sheer amount of disuse he had given them. Aside from a halfhearted protest to one of the guards, he hadn’t spoken a word in… however many days. His reverie was only broken on the rare, rare occasion that another prisoner was thrown in the jail, and he’d had no desire to strike up a conversation with them. And really, even before this cell he hadn’t exactly been going out of his way to have social interaction. 

So, lost in his head as he was, Percy wasn't paying too much attention to the cell to his right. A girl had been brought in earlier that day, and had been off and on whistling. It sounded both better and angrier than Percy had ever thought whistling could, and had faded into a somewhat pleasant white noise. 

Absently he tapped his hand against his leg to the beat of her current tune, recognizing it as a particularly filthy sailor's ditty. He had the brief, mad urge to actually sing along when the whistling cut off abruptly. In the absence of that sound, Percy heard male voices conversing in the front room of the prison, one louder and more confident sounding than the other.

He knew the girl was listening as well, and heard the softest accented voice say, "Oh, for fuck's sake." He almost smiled.

Not a minute later the prison guard appeared again, dragging a small, small man (a gnome, Percy supposed) in with him. He was still talking, and his wide grin and fast-paced speech held the nerves of someone who's plan was going very wrong but was not about to give it up just yet. 

The cell door right of his was swung open, the gnome tossed inside and out of Percy's line of sight. "Since you wanted to see her," the guard said simply, and left them.

There was a long, long silence before Percy heard the girl speak, her voice dripping sarcasm. "Nicely done, _dad_."

The gnome's voice was decidedly less confident. "I was going to try and do this the easy way first-"

"Oh _that_ was the easy way, was it?"

There was a nervous chuckle. "I'm usually much better at this-"

"I'm certain you are," was the dry response.  

After a palpably awkward silence, he began, "I'm sorr-"

His daughter cut him off immediately. "So what's your _real_ plan for gettin' us out of here, then?"

Percy was only half-listening at that point, but talk of an escape plan brought him back. It wasn't as if he hadn't thought of numerous plans to get himself free, but all of them fell-through in his head if the slightest variable wasn't in his favor. He'd known it was hopeless to attempt any of them. 

But these two... the man was a magic user of some sort apparently, which already gave them more advantage than he would have on his own. He might never get a chance like this again.

"Hello?"

The voices went silent. Percy took a deep breath, forcing himself to forge onward. "If you're planning to escape, I will- aid you in whatever way I'm able if you help release me, too."

Neither spoke, and for a moment Percy wondered if they had magically teleported in that instant. Then, the male voice spoke. "While I'm sure we don't need any help-" the girl made a soft disbelieving noise and he shushed her. "-you've got me curious. What are you in here for?"

"A mistake."

There was a pause. "All right, listen; the people I travel with- we don't have the best track record of helping supposedly innocent people, and you're not making a very convincing case for your trustworthiness, you know?"

Percy rubbed his face. "All right. I had a- something I built malfunctioned, and did so in such a way that I nearly injured... several people in a public forum and nothing I could say would convince these lovely guards that I had not intentionally acted."

Another pause, longer. He had no way to know but he was almost certain he was conversing with his daughter. Then, "If things go bad, I'm putting everything on getting her out."

"I understand," Percy said immediately.

"It might not work."

"It's a better chance than I'll ever have."

He was met, again, with silence.

"Listen, I don't want anything more from you - just to be out of here." When the silence persisted, Percy fell back on the only card he had left to play. "I don't have much to offer in return - they took my things - but if I can get them back, I have... maybe five hundred gold I could pay you with."

* * *

 

Things happened very quickly from there.

Some magic that he didn't understand, some slight of hand that he did, and a one-sided conversation with someone, or perhaps several someones, through an enchanted earring and all at once Percy was once again on the streets of Emon, squinting into the near-blinding light of late afternoon a little shook by the _ease_ of it all.

The gnome looked up at him with a wide grin. His daughter stood a little ways off, looking maybe less bewildered than Percy, but not by much. "Gotta take care of her right now, but stick around; he rest of my team wants to meet you." He thought for a moment and shrugged. "Or don't - it's really your call." 

The two gnomes left without waiting for Percy's response.

"Thank you," he said, not even trying to let his voice carry. He wasn't entirely sure what had happened, but he had been rescued from starving to death in a prison cell, and for that he was grateful. He could wait a little while.

He didn't wait for very long, fiddling with his broken contraption and wondering what he was going to do without any of his money, before a bellowing voice called out, "You there!"

Percy tensed and looked up in time to see a- a giant coming toward him. His skin was a pale grey, scarred and heavily muscled and he was armed to the tooth with things Percy knew he wouldn't be able to even lift. The tone wasn't hostile, but his grip tensed on the handle of his - broken - weapon regardless. 

A shorter man came around his side, long black hair pulled in a messy bun leaving much of it to fall past his shoulders, walking with a casual speed that still overtook the larger man with ease. "I'm assuming you're the gentleman our friend sprung from jail," he said, his speech as mellow as his gait. He gestured up at him. "Don't think anyone else matches the description 'whitey' quite like you."

Percy's fingers twitched with a desire to self-consciously fuss with his hair. "Ah- yes."

The man's eyes narrowed a moment before he shrugged. He made no further comment.

Percy was trying to think of something to say or ask when another figure came around to join them. "Is this him?" The speaker was a tall, redheaded woman, her eyes almost unnaturally green and her smile full of more genuine joy than he thought he might have ever seen on anyone.  

"He's right here, Keyleth," the man said, lightly teasing. "But yes.” He raised his voice a bit. “Sister, come meet your five hundred gold."

The other woman came up on his other side, and for a moment Percy thought he was seeing things, blinking a few times until realization came. Though her long hair was styled differently, she was identical in facial structure and stature to the man beside her. 

She gave a sour look at her brother, elbowing him gently in the side. "Don't say it like that, you dick." She looked up at Percy and the scowl disappeared as quickly as a cloud passed over the sun. "I'm glad you're all right, regardless of the money," she said with a very pointed politeness. Her brother snorted softly, but didn't press the issue. 

" _Is_ he all right?" The giant asked, cocking his head. "He looks like one of those undead folks."

Now Percy couldn't help but fidget, brushing at the off-white rough-woven clothing he owned. He really looked at these newcomers and for the first time paid attention to the fine leather armor, the well-kept weapons, the full pouches of coin or other items that they all possessed. They didn't carry themselves like nobility, but they certainly appeared to be of more wealth than Percy had known in the past five years memory allowed him.

Keyleth frowned, looking him over. " _Are_ you all right? I could heal you a bit-"

"No," Percy said immediately, trying not to take a step back. He didn't mind per se the magic that the gnome (Scanlan?) had used for their escape, but he didn't like the idea of magic used so specifically on him in that way. Keyleth looked a little confused and - to his alarm - a little hurt. "I only- food and sleep on something that's not a dirt floor is all I need. But thank you," he added, because confounding as it was, the gesture was a kind one.

"Well... okay," she conceded. She studied him a moment. "Scanlan didn't tell us your name."

"I didn't give it," he said.

"Well, my name is Keyleth," she said encouragingly. She gestured to the people beside her. "That's Vex and Vax and Grog. Scanlan was the one who let you out."

She looked at him expectantly.

He sighed. He might as well tell them something. "Percy." 

The four members of his audience went suddenly still. His brow furrowed, unsure what about his name would garner that reaction. "What?"

"'Percy'?" Keyleth repeated.

"Yes," he said, hoping he sounded more sure than he suddenly felt. He already had enough difficulty with his own existence without people doubting the only thing he could reasonably hold on to.

"Percival?" She suggested.

" _Keyleth_ ," Vax (or Vex - Percy wasn't sure which the female twin was from Keyleth's speedy attempt at an introduction) admonished quietly. He didn't understand that either.

"I-"

"Yeah, do you have a last name or, like, a buncha last names?" the giant - no, Percy decided, not quite a giant, but at least part-giant - asked.

" _Grog_." That was the male twin with the same tone. 

Percy raised a hand, stopping an argument from breaking out over him, a stranger they'd sprung from jail. "It's fine. I don't have a last name, no." 

That got the surprise he actually expected. Twin number two asked, his brow furrowed. "When you say you don't... Vex and I, we don't acknowledge our last name. Is it something like that?"

"No, I don't actually- well," Percy sighed. "I suppose I likely _did_ have one, at one point. I just don't know it. I don't remember it. My full name could be Percival. I don't know."

The members of his audience looked completely at sea with this information and frankly, Percy didn't blame them. He wasn't sure how someone was supposed to react to it; outside of the crew that had found him, he'd never told anyone. It never came up.

He wasn't completely sure why it had come up now. He had paid them, he was free, this should be where they parted ways. But they continued to look at them like- like they were expecting more from him.

The- well, Grog spoke again. "What, did you get hit on the head or something?"

"I... don't know," Percy said plaintively. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Vex cover her mouth with her hand, as though to smooth her smile off her face - or at very least, hide it. Either way, she failed.

"Want me to hit you on the head now?"

" _No_." Percy and the rest of this motley party said in unison.

Keyleth was frowning thoughtfully at him. "Is there a reason you remember 'Percy' though?"

"It's the name I was called as early as I can remember. I don't know if I gave it to the people who found me or if they gave it to me," he said, and maybe it came out a little frustrated - he was. "Does my name matter for any particular reason?"

The flicker of hurt crossed Keyleth's expression again, like she had been trying to help a wounded animal and it had bit her. That didn't make him feel particularly sorry for her, if he was honest. 

"We're sorry for the interrogation," Vax stepped in again, his voice smooth. He rested a hand on Keyleth's arm. "I don't think you can blame the curiosity though; it _is_ an uncommon situation."

"Is it?" Percy asked dryly, but he forced himself to reign back his irritable confusion at why he was suddenly so important to all these strangers. He sighed. "There's really nothing to tell, and I don't feel that it should matter."

"Right," Keyleth said. "Sorry, I was-"

"No, it's- it's fine. It’s fine." He was very, very tired. His comment about needing food and rest felt truer than ever.

"Percy," Vex said, suddenly. He realized, while he had been talking to the others, that she had been studying him intensely. "About that five hundred gold."

He eyed her skeptically. "I gave it to... Scanlan?"

"Yes, of course, darling." She paused a moment, as if carefully considering what she was about to say. "But, I think it's rather a bit too much for a simple jail break." Percy could see Vax and Keyleth exchange brief glances of surprise. Either they thought five hundred was rather the perfect price, or were surprised that _she_ was the one to bring this up.

"Is that so?" He said, when it appeared she was waiting on his reaction.

"Oh yes. For that money, I think you at least deserve dinner at our Keep."

Keyleth perked up immediately. "Oh yes, yes! And we do have plenty of guest rooms if you'd like to stay-" she intercepted a look that Vax was giving his sister and added. "For at least one night?"

Percy looked from face to face, utterly bewildered by the continued generosity, especially since all he’d really done was snap at them. He couldn't help but feel suspicious; he hadn't forgotten that interrogation, or their expectant expressions. He didn't know what they wanted from him, or what they'd do when they realized he couldn't give it to them. But-

He didn’t know where he was going, where he even wanted to go.

Percy held out a hand for Vex to shake, which she readily did. "I think that would certainly make us even."

Her smile was a dazzling thing. "Perfect."

And... maybe this party could lead him to that answer.


	3. This is Going to Sound Crazy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look this story is still a thing! Hopefully not all breaks between chapters will be this long.

**Chapter Two - This is Going to Sound Crazy**

“I’m just saying, two words: Modify Memory.”

“Scanlan!”

“What? I’m joking!”

“Wait- you are?”

“Yes, Grog.”

“Oh.”

“Scanlan knows it wouldn’t work, Grog. Lady Cassandra is smart; she isn’t going to accept anyone as her brother without a Greater Restoration spell on them first.”

“Of course that’s what’s stopping him - not, you know, the fact that it would be wrong.”

“Hey! I take offense at that.”

Vex'ahlia listened to Scanlan, Keyleth, Grog and her brother as they talked over and around each other as they always did. Truly, it was amazing that they had all lived this long in their adventures, the way Vox Machina planned anything.

They were settled around their Keep’s long dining table. Scanlan had returned from… wherever he had taken his daughter after springing her from jail (Vex didn’t ask; she didn’t particularly care as long as the girl took that traveling troupe with her - she was still upset about her silverware). From there, they more formally introduced Scanlan to the man that had been freed alongside Kaylie, before letting Percy go to the baths they had in Greyskull.

As soon as the white-haired young man left, the conversation had immediately moved to speculation and planning.

Well, attempted planning. As usual.

“Jokes aside, I’m still not sure why we agreed to this,” Scanlan was saying. “I mean, we have the reward for, you know, saving the whole city of Whitestone. We don’t need to be bounty hunters for some long lost - probably dead - royal.”

“We didn’t promise anything,” Vax reminded him. “We weren’t even given a timeframe. We only said we’d keep an eye out.”

“Yeah but what’s our plan, then? Every time we find some guy who looks sorta kinda right we’re dropping what we were doing and ferrying him to Whitestone?”

“We haven’t got any world-endin dangers for once,” Grog said around a mouthful of dinner. “We could just go on a manhunt for Percival Von Frankenstein de whatsists-”

“Percival Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo the third,” Vex muttered under her breath.

Or at least, that had been the idea. But, being her first input into this conversation since it began, it was unfortunately noted. The rest of her party fell silent and turned to look at her.

“I did my research,” she said, with forced nonchalance. 

And she had, back when they had first been contacted by Seeker Asum about Whitestone and the Briarwoods, done a great deal of research. Vex'ahlia knew the names of all seven of the de Rolo children and their parents, as well as a rough history of their rule. After discovering Cassandra Johanna Von Musel de Rolo was alive, Vex had been admittedly rather a bit too trusting of the girl initially, too overjoyed to find that a member of the family had survived - especially after being told the story of her attempt to flee when the castle had originally been taken. Thankfully everything had worked out in their favor the end and Cassandra’s trust was returned, but Vex had learned she needed to avoid emotionally attaching herself too strongly to this case. 

Of course, Vex knew in her heart that that attachment was formed largely from a guilt that had sat in her gut for the last five years. In Cassandra’s numerous repetitions of her and Percival’s escape, from when they first found her to when she had - albeit informally - contracted them to find her brother, she had never once mentioned a hunter and a bear in the woods that night. And while she did remind Vox Machina that much of that night was still a terrifying blur in her memory, frankly it didn’t matter to Vex'ahlia. It might not have been them, but it might _have_ \- and it wouldn’t have affected her actions that night. De Rolos or not, Vex could have helped those two siblings escape whatever it was they ran from, and she had not. 

But she could help these siblings now.

She met Vax’s eye, catching his quizzical look, and then looked away. She had never told her brother what had happened, after they themselves had fled discovery that night. She wasn’t even sure he remembered that anymore; too many close-calls and late night watches and they all started to blur together. As the years piled on one another, she could never find reason or cause to mention it – it felt like a trivial thing to be hung up on after all the death they had seen and caused.

“ _Well_?” Scanlan said, in absence of any other comment.

“Well, what?”

“Well, you’ve done your research - is Whitey up there our man?”

Vex opened her mouth to immediately refute the idea, and then closed it. Percy was… incredibly hard to read. Granted, of course, they hadn’t talked much to him and he didn’t appear inclined to speak unless the conversation was directed at him. Beneath his exhausted, mostly-dead-looking exterior, Vex had been able to sense the kind of wary distrust she recognized from her and Vax’s years traveling alone. Paired together, that didn’t leave one with the image of a man who had known privilege. But then, neither did Cassandra de Rolo, and if he was indeed her brother the last five years of his life likely had not treated him well.  

Vex bit her lip, aware she had been silent too long. Yes, the invitation to stay at their keep had been impulsive on her part; she could admit that. And she could similarly admit that it had indeed been the surprise that was his name and its link to this mystery she couldn’t help feeling attached too. 

Of course, she wouldn’t want to admit either of those things _aloud_.

“He doesn’t look much like the portrait Cassandra showed us,” she said at last. At least that was true (he also didn’t resemble the young man from the forest but she wasn’t sure her memory of those events could hold sway one way or another).

“It’s been five years,” Keyleth pointed out. “And Cassandra doesn’t look much like she did in that portrait either.”

“Do _you_ think he’s Percival de Rolo?” Vex countered.

Keyleth opened and closed her mouth much like Vex had. She felt a little pride at that.

It didn’t last long, as Vax spoke up again. “I thought the whole reason you brought him in was because we thought he was our guy.”

She could feel herself flush, her brother’s words aligning with her previous train of thought a little closer than she would have liked. “All right, maybe the idea crossed my mind, but mostly - did you see him? He looked like he was on death’s door. I doubt he knew where he would be spending the night if we didn’t take him.”

“So if _he_ steals our silverware you’ll be fine?” Scanlan asked dryly.

Vex was ready to retort when a voice came from the entryway. “Why would I be stealing silverware? I’d think that’d be the least valuable thing you have in a place like this.”

The party turned to see Percy settle, leaning his back against a corner of the doorframe. Vex was surprised, and a little perturbed, that she hadn’t heard him enter.

Now clean, he looked even paler than he had before. His hair was whiter than mountain snow, the only color in his complexion coming from the dark circles under light eyes. His clothing had supposedly been washed, but it was still the dirty off-white of garments that never had been and never would truly be clean. Grog hadn’t been off the mark when he had said Percy looked like an undead.

Yet, he still held himself with an air of confidence, Vex observed, his posture cooly casual. He had looked uncomfortable and shy when they had invited him in but if he still was now he was certainly adept at hiding it. She could admire that, even as she mentally noted that she would have to watch him closely.

“Easiest to make off with,” Vax said, and it took Vex a moment to remember they were talking about silverware.

Percy nodded. “A fair point.” He raised his hands in a show of surrender. “The silverware is safe, I swear it.”

Vex saw her brother’s smirk before he could hide it and had to smile in turn. “Dinner?” She gave Percy a sweeping gesture to the dining table.

His smile was small and tired, but genuine. “Would be lovely, thank you.”

He had impeccable manners for a presumably homeless urchin, she thought, studying him as he moved to sit at the far end of the table, next to Keyleth and across from Grog. Pike’s usual place, but the cleric had business elsewhere to everyone’s general sorrow (between her work helping build a bastion for Sarrenrae worship in Whitestone and Tiberius announcing his departure just as they had returned, Greyskull was feeling uncomfortably empty for Vex’ahlia’s tastes). Percy helped himself to the food with the underlying urgency of someone who did not eat often or regularly, but was remarkably tidy about the entire process. It was almost comical. 

She met Vax’s eye at one point during the awkward meal. He gave a short pointed glance at their white-haired guest. _What do we do with him?_

Vex lifted her own eyes to the ceiling for a moment, toward their second floor. _Stay the night?_

“Do you want some ale?” Grog was asking.

Percy considered the question. “I… think that wouldn’t be wise right now. Unless you would like to see this dinner a second time.”

Grog frowned.

“He’s a lightweight,” Scanlan supplied. 

“I spent several years living with fishermen,” Percy said quickly. “I assure you I’m not.”

“That remains unproven.”

“Yeah, you gotta back that shit up. Drink up, Bleachy.” Grog poured out from his cask of ale, passing it across the table. 

Percy spent a moment looking between the drink, Scanlan, and Grog. Then, with a loud, tired sigh he took a long draw from the tankard. Beside him Keyleth cheered. Vex rolled her eyes.

Over all of that, Vax still watched her. He mimed holding a dagger, briefly gesturing first to the table, before subtly pointing at Percy. _Do you trust him?_

Vex looked to Percy, his expression pleasant but impassive as Keyleth began to ask him about his apparent fishing days. After the way he – perhaps understandably – reacted to their questioning before, it surprised her to see him answering with no obvious sign of annoyance. She wasn’t sure if what was a good sign or a concerning one. He might be a much better liar than she was giving him credit for.

She couldn’t convey all of those thoughts to her brother in a gesture so she gave the smallest shrug. _I think so._

Vax’s eyes narrowed, but before he could continue their private conversation Keyleth’s voice distracted them both.

“Wait, _what_?”

“What?” Percy echoed. Vex eyed him warily; it wasn’t quite the snap he had given them when they had prodded too deep into his apparent nonexistent past, but it was the closest since they had taken him in.

Keyleth shook her head. “Nothing- it’s nothing. I was just surprised- five years you know? It’s a long time to be on a boat- I mean, I guess it is? It feels like a long time, doesn’t it?”

 _Five years_. Vex understood Keyleth’s surprise now, as she worked to keep her own expression neutral. According to everyone they spoke to, the sack of Whitestone by the Briarwoods had been five years ago.

“I didn’t spend all of it at sea, you know. Port towns around Stilben mostly,” he pointed out, still watching Keyleth intently. Vex knew that expression and it meant trouble; it was the face of someone doing an _exemplary_ job at reading their conversation partner.

 “Right,” She said much too quickly. “Right. I didn’t mean- and I don’t want to pry anymore obviously. I know you don’t-“

“No, no,” Percy said, his voice suspiciously casual. He set his utensils down and looked from Keyleth to the group. “I understand. I _was_ wondering when or if the conversation would return to whatever you were talking about when I wasn’t here.”

Keyleth bristled. “We weren’t- we weren’t talking about you or anything.”

“We were absolutely talking about you,” Scanlan said.

Percy actually smiled at the gnome. “Thank you.”

The druid frowned, but before she could speak Vax raised a hand. “Percy makes a valid point. I feel like we’re better off putting cards on the table than letting him figure us out on his own. We’re not always good at the discretion; might as well drop that tactic sooner rather than later.”

“Thank you, again,” Percy said.

“We’re looking for someone,” Scanlan supplied, when it appeared no one else was going to start. “A missing person case, if you will.”

“Do you know where Whitestone is?” Keyleth added.

Percy ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve seen it on maps- I’ve never been that far north. That I can remember,” he added, bitterly.

Vax nodded. “They had- have- a ruling noble family that had been dispatched of for some nefarious purposes. We recently aided the last living member of that family in getting her birthright back, only to be told her brother escaped the same time she did.”

The white-haired young man raised his eyebrows. “And you think that’s… me.” 

Vex felt herself flush under the deadpan delivery. She wasn’t sure any of them really, _truly_ believed that this man was some blue blooded noble, but his tone made it clear just how ridiculous even _theorizing_ it was.

“It’s improbable,” Vax admitted, unfazed. “We’re all well aware of that. But Percival de Rolo disappeared five years ago – and from what you were telling Kiki, you spent most of you known years in a port in Stilben, that’s nearer Whitestone than here – so you can see we’re not pulling this completely out of our asses.”

If Percy reacted to the name, it even missed Vex’s detection. That was irksome. “And this girl- she really thinks he’s still alive?”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Grog said under his breath.

“She does,” Vex said, after shooting Grog a look.

“It’s a long shot,” Vax nudged her with his shoulder. “But I’ll admit I have cause to trust the instinct sibling’s have. Cassandra never saw the bodies of her other siblings, but she knew with certainty that they were dead. If she thinks Percival survived, I think it’s worth investigating.”

There was a long silence as Percy seemed to think this over. 

Vex waited for him to deny it entirely, to call them crazy, to leave. But his gaze fell to Scanlan and his mouth curved to a sardonic smile. “So you released me because I may be titled.”

“Oh no,” Scanlan said, waving a hand. “I busted you out because of your five hundred gold.  The potential title earned you dinner from this one.” He jerked a thumb at Vex.

To her surprise and amusement, she could see Percy actually struggle not to laugh before he turned his eyes to her. “Five hundred gold and a potential title,” he mused. “If that’s what dinner is worth, I’m not sure I can afford spending the night.”

Vex laughed in spite of herself. “Nonsense, darling. Room and board are priced together.” 

“So generous,” he murmured dryly (Vax snorted). His smile disappeared as quickly as it appeared. “On the subject of generosity, she must be offering you something special." 

"What?”

“Lady… Cassandra, was it? I mean-” He gave the dining area a perfunctory glance. “- you don’t appear to be starved for funds. Is she going to title the lot of you?”

There was a beat of silence as everyone at the table tried to figure out just what to say to that.

“That’s what I’m saying,” Scanlan said at last. Vex shot _him_ a look.

“We- we haven’t exactly discussed official payment,” she said. “I suspect there will be some, but that’s not why we’re doing this.”

“Cassandra’s had more than her share of shit in her life.” Vax added. “She deserves the odd good deed, I think.”

Percy frowned. “And if I’m not her brother after all?” 

Vex’ahlia shrugged. “She’ll know it right away and that’s that. She deserves- at least, she deserves…” She trailed off, looking down a moment, her mind flashing back to blood and hunting dogs. “She deserves to _know_. One way or another.”

For the first time since this conversation began, she saw a real reaction from him. His eyes widened and he sat back, as if her words startled him. “One way or another,” he echoed quietly.

He fell silent, looking ahead in an unfocused manner. No one at the table seemed willing to interrupt his thoughts. “I’m not- I can’t say I believe that I am this Percival. But it’s- it’s more than I have to go from right now.” He raised his eyes to meet Vex, holding her gaze.  “I- I guess _I_ want to know.”

“Sleep on it,” Vax advised, shaking Vex into breaking eye contact. “We’re not asking you to do anything you don’t want to.”

Percy nodded. “You’re not.” He sounded a little like he was still lost in thought.

Vax shook his head, getting to his feet. “Come on, Whitey – let’s find what room five hundred gold and a potential title gets you.” 

Vex stuck her tongue out at her brother, as he casually took Percy by the arm and guided the un-protesting man away from the dinner table. Still, she couldn’t quite shake Percy’s eyes, or the words they had both shared.

 _One way or another_.

Vex wanted to know, too. 


End file.
